Fulfillment
by sssms
Summary: SSS's followup to Realizations and Promises.


Fulfillment

Will Rose's promise to Bosco be fulfilled?

Suzanne's follow-up fic to Realizations and Promises. Thanks to M for previewing and giving some feedback. She didn't want to go where my muse and Bosco are going in this follow-up. Rating: Moderate caution for subject matter, possible language.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the original characters or places.

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"Shhh…its ok, baby." Rose muttered as she held her son's shaking form while he sobbed uncontrollably against her. Kissing the top of his head, she held him tighter. "It's ok, Maurice."

She frowned as he gasped slightly and started pushing away from her. "Maurice, what's wrong?" She questioned, seeing his face which was deathly pale except for his red rimmed eyes.

Struggling to rise, Bosco could only mutter "Sick."

Seeing the desperation on his face, Rose helped pull him to his feet and followed behind him closely as he staggered towards the bathroom.

Rose froze in the middle of her son's bedroom, as Bosco stumbled forward into the bathroom collapsing in front of the toilet just in time.

Rose, oblivious to her son's retching, was entranced by the blood stains on the comforter. Shuddering, her eyes then went to the bedside table where Bosco's revolver lay amongst the beer bottles, the red stickiness soiling the handle along with the cold gray metal.

"Oh, Maurice." Her voice was barely audible as she struggled to find her breath.

A trail of blood droplets stained the carpet leading into the bathroom. And as she stepped forward, quickly averting her eyes from the bloody handprint on the door facing, she gasped as she got her first glimpse of the bathroom itself. Blood was everywhere, its crimson stain smeared on the cabinet, the sink, the wall, even the bathtub. She swallowed back the bile that threatened to rise in her own throat as she tried to comprehend how her child could have gotten into this condition.

Broken from her contemplative state by her son's groans, Rose hurriedly retrieved a hand towel from the closet, her motherly instincts temporarily overcoming her impending panic. After dousing the towel with cold water; she turned, pressing it to Bosco's forehead as she knelt beside him. Placing her other hand on his back, she realized that he was sweating profusely as he gripped the sides of the toilet seat, his arms shaking, his retching now reduced to dry heaves. "Are you ok, baby?" She whispered.

Bosco managed to shake his head 'no', as he leaned his head forward resting it against the underside of the raised toilet lid, groaning loudly.

"Maurice?" When he failed to answer Rose gave in to her rising panic. "Maurice, answer me! Don't you dare pass out on me! I'm calling an ambulance!"

"No" Bosco rasped, trying to push himself upright again.

Rose blinked away the tears forming in her eyes, swallowing hard, only temporarily relieved by her son's feeble voice. "Maurice, you can barely hold your head up. You're still bleeding and you…. You have to get help, baby." Rose spoke softly, despite her heart thumping madly in her chest. She placed a hand on his shoulder to steady him, wondering if he was indeed going to pass out.

"No ambulance. They'll call the police." Bosco mumbled quietly. Blinking heavily, he willed his eyes to remain open, swallowing against another round of nausea. "I'm ok." He said more clearly.

"No, Maurice you are not ok." Rose argued, coming shakily to her feet as Bosco struggled to stand up, clinging to Rose as he did so.

"I just need to rest." He replied wearily, moving back toward the bedroom with Rose practically holding him up.

"Maurice, listen to me." Rose implored as they reached the bed and Bosco leaned his hands onto it, lowering himself slowly into a seated position.

From where he sat, Bosco's gaze went to the gun lying on the bedside table. He quickly averted his eyes. Looking up at Rose guiltily, he saw her glance at the deadly weapon as well before looking directly at him, fear evident in her eyes.

Unable to hold her gaze, he looked away, shuffling back further onto the bed. "Need sleep" he muttered, attempting to lie down onto his side.

"NO, Maurice!" Rose's shout startled him as she pulled him back upright, her hands balled up in the front of his shirt. "You have to get help. You need a doctor!" She exclaimed loudly, shaking Bosco slightly for emphasis.

"No." Bosco answered, trying to extract his shirt from her grasp. He needed quiet and sleep. Couldn't she see that? "No ambulance." He repeated.

Rose let out an exasperated sigh thinking that Maurice would surely be the death of her yet. For the moment, she didn't care what he wanted. She couldn't deal with this on her own. She reached for the phone with one hand while still holding on to Bosco's shirt with the other. "Then I'll call Faith."

"NO! NO, MA!" Bosco screamed. Suddenly finding renewed strength, he grabbed Rose's arm with his left hand pulling it free from his shirt. "NO! She can't see me like this!"

"Maurice! Maurice, let me go!" Rose demanded, alarmed at his sudden outburst. She tried to pull away from his grasp, only to have his grip tighten. "Stop it, Maurice. You're hurting me." She said more quietly, trying to calm the situation.

"Faith can't see this, Ma! SHE CAN'T! Please!" Bosco begged as he reached for the telephone with his bandaged hand. "If she sees this, everyone will know!"

As Rose held the phone away from him, a struggle ensued. "Stop Maurice!"

"Give it to me!"

Bosco stood and shifted his weight forward reaching for the phone as Rose turned away causing them both to stumble and crash in a heap onto the bedroom floor.

"Ahhhhhhhh" Bosco moaned as his weight came down on his injured hand.

Rose grunted then remained silent, the breath knocked out of her as she slammed into the floor and her son fell on top of her.

Both were surprised by their sudden decent, but Bosco would not be deterred from his mission. He wrestled the telephone from Rose's hand, then scrambled away on his hands and knees.

Rose struggled to catch her breath before slowly pushing herself into a sitting position. She rubbed her right wrist, noting the angry hand print left by her son. She hesitantly looked up to see Bosco sitting with his back against the doorframe to the bathroom, his knees pulled up, cradling the phone against his chest possessively. He was breathing hard, the look on his face a mixture of fear and anger.

"You can't call Faith!" He snapped.

"Maurice" Rose spoke cautiously, her voice trembling as for the first time in her life she was genuinely afraid that Maurice might be capable of harming her.

"Please, Ma. You can't call Faith. I don't need a doctor. You can clean this up for me." He nodded towards his bloody bandage. "I don't need to go to the hospital. You can clean it up and stay here with me. You promised…you promised you wouldn't leave me."

Her fear turned to anguish as Bosco's face crumpled, fresh tears running down his now flushed cheeks.

"Maurice." Rose hesitated, the pleading look on his face tearing at her heart. Then she found her resolve. "Maurice, listen to me. Ok, baby? You have to listen to me. You're not thinking straight, Maurice." Rose spoke softly as she inched her own shaking form closer to him. "You're not thinking straight and you need to see a doctor."

Bosco shook his head back and forth, speaking between sobs. "I'm not crazy, Ma. I'm….I'm not crazy…I was just…up…up…set."

"No. I know, baby. I know you're not crazy." Rose swiped at the tears in her own eyes. "I know you're upset and you're hurt, baby. You're still bleeding. I can't fix that. Mama can't fix that, baby. Please, Maurice. Please let me take you to the hospital."

She'd moved close enough to reach out and place her hand on his arm. Feeling him shrink back as she did, she coaxed. "Please, Maurice. Let me help you. I'm here for you, baby, and I'm not going to leave you. But you have to let me help you. You have to let me take you to the hospital. Then everything will be ok, baby. You'll see."

Bosco closed his eyes, listening to Rose's soft voice. He wanted to believe her, needed to believe her. He was tired, so tired. He felt so bad. So confused. And everything seemed out of control. His mother's hand on his forearm seemed to be the only thing that grounded him. And when he felt her other hand on his cheek, he gave in, leaning forward and resting his head on her shoulder.

Rose rubbed Bosco's arm gently as she continued to speak softly. When he seemed to calm slightly, she reached up caressing his cheek with her left hand. She was more than relieved when he leaned forward, dropping his head onto her shoulder. Her left hand moved to stroke his drenched hair while her right moved to rub his back gently. She kissed the side of his head, then leaned her cheek against it, closing her eyes as they both sobbed quietly.

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After Rose gained control of her own emotions, she finally convinced Bosco to go to the hospital if only to have his hand injury treated, although she had no intentions of remaining silent about the circumstances under which she'd found him like this. Still he'd refused to allow her to call an ambulance, or Faith, or anyone else. So as a last resort, they'd settled on a cab.

The cabbie was not pleased to have a bleeding, half-conscious man as a customer, insisting that they needed to call an ambulance; but he'd changed his mind quickly when Rose handed him an extra twenty for his trouble. Fortunately the drive was short and Bosco slept most of the way. In fact, he was so out of it by the time they reached Mercy that it took two orderlies to get him out of the cab and onto a stretcher.

Rose had explained the situation to the doctor as best she could, being quite honest, while still trying to protect her son's dignity as much as possible.

Now she stood outside the exam room while the nurse started an IV and the ER doctor cleaned and stitched Bosco's wounds. A psychiatrist had been called to evaluate him and Rose could only imagine how he was going to react to that.

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"Mrs. Boscorelli?"

Rose jumped slightly, then turned towards the familiar voice behind her.

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End file.
